


four seasons: fall

by kocuria



Series: the Winter drabbles [7]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Artist Steve Rogers, Autumn, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Fluff and Angst, Headspace, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Parkour, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sharing a Body, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27066073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kocuria/pseuds/kocuria
Summary: "Why does the island look... different?" Winter asks slowly, choosing his words with care."What do you mean?""The colors? They'rechanging."-Winter's first fall.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Winter, Steve Rogers & Winter
Series: the Winter drabbles [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805338
Comments: 62
Kudos: 209





	1. Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lacerta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Четыре времени года: осень](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052780) by [WTF Stucky and Roles 2021 (WTF_Stucky_and_Roles_2021)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Stucky_and_Roles_2021/pseuds/WTF%20Stucky%20and%20Roles%202021)



> For Lacerta, who bunnied this, suggested I make it part 1 of 4, and then proceeded to be the absolute _best_ rubber duck! 💖
> 
> This takes place between _the story of you_ and _luscious_ \- so, **very early** in Winter's stay at the Tower. Yes, I'm jumping through the timeline, it's _fun_ 😉 I'm aging Peter up a little bit - canonically he's supposed to be 15 during CA:CW, which would make him 13 during CA:WS. I'm putting him at 15 _now_ for *waves hands* plot reasons.  
> Kisses for cacopheny for beta 😘 Possible chapter 2, since this was supposed to be schmoopy fluff but... well, you'll see 🤣
> 
> The author has no experience with Dissociative Identity Disorder whatsoever (way too much with other fun mental stuff though).  
> Shared headspace: **bold** for Winter, _italics_ for Bucky.  
> You can find the series timeline [HERE!](https://kocuria.tumblr.com/post/637890812746891264/timeline-for-the-winter-drabbles-series)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://kocuria.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/kocuria)

They’re sitting on the very top of the Manhattan-side tower of the Brooklyn Bridge, legs dangling carelessly over the edge, when Winter notices it.

“Peter?” he asks, and the boy just hums to acknowledge him, not even lifting the head bent over the display of his camera.

Winter knows Peter took more than one picture of _him._ He knows the Captain will probably ask Peter to have copies of them, ‘for drawing reference’ as he says. Winter doesn’t know why, exactly, the Ca- Steve needs to have photos of them when they’ve been spending practically all their time with him anyway, but Bucky just laughed and said, _This is what he does. It’s an artist thing,_ like it made perfect sense. Winter still doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, exactly, but if Bucky isn’t worried - well, Winter trusts Bucky’s judgement when it comes to all things Steve.

He did make sure to impress on Peter just how important it was that he doesn’t upload the photos of his arm or face without the photostatic veil anywhere except JARVIS’s servers. The boy just scoffed - interning for Stark has already taught him more about cyber security than Winter can ever hope to know… and hanging around literal superheroes quickly drove home just what the stakes really are.

Winter looks over Peter’s shoulder curiously. Like he expected, it’s a portrait of him - he knows enough to decide it’s _good,_ though he can’t explain why, exactly. He looks… soft. Kind of sad, maybe? 

Winter looks through Bucky’s vocabulary to figure it out.

 _Distressed._ He looks distressed.

They did have a bad night, Bucky’s nightmares waking them up time and again, till all Bucky could do was curl up in his safe corner and let Winter drive. The run with Peter has been a welcome distraction from the fog of exhaustion swirling in their head... it’s clearly visible, though - the bags under their eyes that even the serum can’t fix, the way he’s huddled on the ledge, one leg drawn up to his chest.

One thing’s for sure, he looks nothing like the always straight-backed, violence-coiled-to-spring Soldier they used to be.

 **Good,** Winter thinks resolutely, and he can sense Bucky’s agreement.

He shakes himself and tries again. “Peter?” 

The head _does_ come up this time. “Yes, Mr. Winter?”

“Why does the island look _different?”_ Winter asks slowly, choosing his words with care. He still has trouble, sometimes, expressing himself clearly to anybody who isn’t Bucky or Natalia. One of the things he values about Peter’s company is that the boy never tries to rush him in any way, content to wait for him to gather his thoughts while they’re out and about like this.

Well, that, and the fact that the boy can _climb_ like nobody’s business. It’s been exhilarating, discovering someone who could not only keep up, but easily run circles around him.

 **_Focus,_ ** **Winter.**

“What do you mean, different?” Peter says, seeing Winter's attention come back to him.

“The… the colors? They’re changing?”

“Well, we’ve never been out this early in the morning, so it might just be the light! See, this is actually why I wanted to come out here _now,_ the light is absolutely _perfect_ for portraits, and Mr. Steve asked me- um. Shit, I wasn’t supposed to-” Peter stutters and goes quiet.

Winter grins. “Don’t worry, I know all about the photos.” Peter still looks worried, though, so he adds, “We’re okay, really. But, the colors? I don’t mean the light, there’s less green and more… yellow? The trees?”

Peter gapes at him for a second. “It’s… October?”

Winter tries to make the connection between the two facts and fails. “Okay?”

“It’s fall, Mr. Winter. Of course the leaves change colors!” Peter leaps up, quickly secures the camera in his Stark-made, 100% Spidey jump-proof backpack, and holds out a hand to help Winter get up. “Come on, I know a perfect spot. I’ll show you!”

When they come back to the Tower, JARVIS informs them that both Tony and Steve are in Stark’s private lab before they even ask him.

“Well, we’re nothing if not predictable,” Peter says brightly as they ride the elevator down, down, down… Winter knows what the boy’s doing - trying to distract him, knowing he doesn’t like being underground. He smiles at him, grateful for the chatter as JARVIS enquires about their run the way he always does.

As soon as they enter the lab, Peter beelines for Stark where he’s manipulating a hologram of something that looks like an Iron Man suit sized for a Hulk. Winter can’t help but smile seeing Peter launch into a series of questions before he even takes off his backpack, Tony ruffling his hair and laughing. The boy isn’t officially part of the Avengers - not yet, anyway, not even on a provisional basis the way Bucky and Winter are, but he’s clearly at home here in the Tower. Winter can’t help but be glad - again, _always_ \- that they’ve decided to give Steve a chance and come back. They’ve got people here, people they like, people who seem to _understand._

Winter knows their situation is… unusual, in more ways than one. He’s seen enough of the world _outside_ to know that the acceptance, the help they’re getting here would be hard to come by anywhere else.

He quickly locates the Ca- Steve, facing away from the door, sitting on a sprawling sofa next to Dum-E’s docking station. He’s doodling absentmindedly on a paper pad, the shapes somewhat resembling all the various mechanical elements around them - a bike engine that’s strewn in bits and pieces against the opposite wall, the old arc reactor that for some reason has the pride of place in the corner with some news clippings and vintage posters, the futuristic red-and-gold coffee machine that looks more intimidating than Stark’s suit.

Winter feels his hand go clammy. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The Captain hasn’t seen, yet, there’s still time to change-

 _He’s gonna love it,_ Bucky murmurs from the back of their head, and Winter makes a valiant effort to slow down his breathing. 

He can tell the exact moment the Captain - Steve, _Steve,_ he told us to call him _Steve,_ he’s not a handler, he’s just _Steve_ \- notices him. He perks up immediately, putting away his pencil and turning sideways to see him better, smile almost blinding even though there’s no way he doesn’t _see,_ doesn’t _know_ it’s Winter and not Bucky facing him. The smile does change a little when Winter says nothing, frozen in place and unable to make any decision - it becomes softer, reassuring.

“Hi, Winter,” the Ca- **_Steve_ **says quietly, like he’s afraid to spook them.

 _Well, that’s not an inaccurate assessment,_ Bucky chimes in, and Winter rolls his eyes.

 **We’re the most feared wetwork operative of the century, we do not** **_spook,_ **he says primly, and Bucky snickers.

“How was your run?” Steve asks once Winter’s eyes focus on him again. The smile is still there, and he’s made no move to get up - if anything, he’s actually putting himself into a more tactically disadvantageous position by bringing his leg up on the sofa and toying with the pad again.

 _Huh, I wonder if he’s doing it on purpose,_ Bucky mutters.

 **Hey, if you wanna take over, be my guest,** Winter grumbles.

 _No, no, it’s_ your _show, go ahead._ There’s laughter in Bucky’s voice, under the layers of murky grey exhaustion.

Winter takes a deep breath and struts to the sofa, noting that Steve’s smile grows a little wider as he comes closer. He stops a little closer than he usually would, the back of the sofa that’s separating them giving him the bit of courage he needs to get within touching distance.

“I- we went to Brooklyn Bridge, and then I- there was-” Winter stops, frustrated with the way words don’t want to happen. “Here,” he mutters, thrusting his left hand out.

The leaf is a tiny bit rumpled, but Winter took great care not to accidentally squish it too hard. Not an easy job, seeing as he ran his way back here all the way from Queens with it tucked in his breast pocket. 

He’s very proud of the way his hand is not shaking, even if it’s only because it’s the metal one.

“... a leaf?” Steve asks, looking between it and Winter’s face in obvious confusion.

“It’s fall!” Winter says, like that’ll help. He knows he probably looks slightly crazy, hair all over the place, his flesh hand making a fist, uncurling and curling back again in rapid tempo.

 **This was a bad idea, this was** **_a bad idea,_ ** **so bad-**

_Hey, no, no it wasn’t. He’s just-_

“Yes, it’s October,” Steve says slowly, visibly trying to make sense of the situation.

_… he’s just a dumbass. Jesus._

“It’s _pretty,”_ Winter says helplessly. He feels like a complete idiot, standing there still wearing a jacket, holding a _dead plant._

**What the hell was I thinking, this makes no sense! Why would he want a-**

“Is it… for me?” Steve asks carefully. Winter nods immediately, relieved. “Thank you, Winter. Can I take it?”

Winter notices the chokehold he has on the poor thing. He forces himself to cross those last few inches and drop the leaf into the Cap- _Steve’s,_ not a handler, _Steve_ \- Steve’s hand, then quickly moves back, putting both hands behind his back.

“It _is_ beautiful, thank you,” Steve says brightly, turning the leaf over to look at it from all sides.

“I thought you might want to-” Winter says without thinking, then snaps his mouth shut. He can feel his face growing hot.

“Draw it?” Steve finishes.

 _Thank you. Finally. God, he can be so… frustratingly_ slow _sometimes,_ Bucky grumbles. 

Winter says nothing. He doesn’t think he has any words left. He just nods, both to Bucky _and_ to Steve, who beams at him.

“We need to go up to our floor, though. I don’t have the colored pencils with me… came to talk to Tony and then kinda stole this pencil from U when he wasn’t looking.”

There’s a chirp as U boops into Winter’s left arm - and how didn’t he see the thing sneaking up on him? - then makes a sound that's eerily like a reprimand in Steve’s direction. Winter can’t help but laugh a little at the claw that grabs his thumb and starts dragging him towards the disassembled engine.

“Hi, U,” he says quietly, and the bot whistles. “I can’t play today, sorry.”

**Why is talking to bots so much easier than people?**

Bucky just chuckles.

 **You’re not helpful, you know,** Winter grouses.

_You’ve got this._

Winter looks up at Steve, tracing the veins of his new leaf. It really _is_ a beautiful thing - Winter made sure to pick the _best_ one, going from bright green through orange to vivid red, no trace of sad brown or black. He could see it, in his mind’s eye, which pencils Steve could use to draw it, which exact shade of sunny yellow would work best.

 _You’ve been paying attention,_ Bucky says, surprised.

**You haven’t?**

_Um, no, not exactly? I don’t remember the particular shades, anyway?_

Winter shrugs. **It’s fun to watch him create.**

_You did good, Winter. This was a good idea._

“You ready?” Steve asks quietly. Winter knows he’s itching to grab their hand, embrace them, _touch_ in some way - he doesn’t, though. He’s been very careful not to touch Winter unless he initiates it. It was one of the first things that actually got across the idea that he’s _not_ a handler, that he’s a… an ally? A _friend?_ Winter doesn’t know what Steve _is,_ exactly, only that he’s a category all his own, completely unlike anyone else they know, even Natalia.

Winter nods, still not up to speaking. Yes, the idea of their floor, his armchair, the blue blanket, hot chocolate, _yes._ Yes, he’s very much ready to go.

“We’re gonna get out of your hair, Tony,” Steve says a little louder, eyes still on Winter. There’s some sort of acknowledgement from Stark, and Peter waving enthusiastically, and Dum-E coming to boop against Winter’s left hand, but he sort of tunes it all out. He just focuses on the leaf, the riot of color in Steve’s hand, and tries to match Steve’s breathing.

“Let’s go home,” Steve says, and Winter startles.

**Home.**

Bucky makes an inquiring sound.

**Home base?**

_It’s… yes, it’s sort of like that. A place you go to regroup._

**But that’s not where the weapons are stored.**

_It’s not about weapons, Winter. It’s where you’re_ safe.

 **We can take care of ourselves anywhere!** Winter counters, digging up the memory of the Hydra STRIKE team they exterminated in June.

 _Thing is… maybe we don’t_ have to. _Not with Steve, not with Natalia or JARVIS._

**So, a place where we’re surrounded by allies?**

He can feel Bucky sigh. _Yeah, let’s start with that. Think allies, but with blankets and cats and hot chocolate and sleeping through the night._

**We haven’t been doing much of that though, lately.**

_It’ll get easier. I promise. We’re here, we’re safe, we’re with Steve. It’s a good start._

**… Okay.**

Winter opens his eyes to find Steve still waiting patiently, though he’s looking… worried.

“You okay?”

“I’m… yes. I think we will,” Winter answers quietly. 

_Oh, hey, words are back!_

Winter scowls, but he knows Bucky won’t take offense. They’ve been practicing this playfulness thing. Winter thinks he likes it.

“Let’s go home,” Winter confirms, voice growing a little stronger, and well worth the effort to see Steve’s face do… a thing.

 _He’s_ happy. _You made him happy._

Happy looks orange and warm and _almost_ as pretty as his leaf.

 _Almost?_ Bucky teases.

 **Almost,** Winter confirms, but there’s a part of him, small and shy and coral-pink that says that maybe, just _maybe..._ it might actually be better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 25/10: Lacerta continues her Best Duck™ streak 😁 she wrote an interlude that goes between the bridge scene and the lab one - from Peter's POV - and it's _absolutely perfect!_ You can find it [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181610) 💖


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’ve been relying way too much on the fact that Winter can access Bucky’s memories and knowledge, and completely forgot that he has to know he’s missing some key piece of information in order to go looking for it in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, it's the middle of December and i'm still writing the fall fic. it's 2020 and time is just a social construct anyway 😉 mildly inspired by all the glorious Lucky content lately, tho them meeting was the plan all along.  
> the actual day trip is coming next, since there's leaf piles that need plundered. along with maybe some Halloween shenanigans? stay tuned.

The Leaf Incident, as Steve took to calling it in his head, opens everybody’s eyes to the glaring oversight they’ve committed. They’ve been relying way too much on the fact that Winter can access Bucky’s memories and knowledge, and completely forgot that he has to _know_ he’s missing some key piece of information in order to go looking for it in the first place. It’s not like there’s a manual on how to do this - even Natasha’s experiences after she escaped the Red Room don’t come close to the way Winter now needs to learn how to do even the most basic things.

Winter knows everything there is to know about human anatomy and how to cause pain in the most efficient way. He can use _and_ perform maintenance on virtually any weapon he gets his hands on, pilot most craft and easily survive in any conditions with a combination of serum’s regenerative ability and sheer indifference to things like cold or pain. They know this from the SHIELDRA data dump, and Winter’s easily confirmed all of it in a casual way that showed he has very little idea how egregious the things done to him were.

Winter’s never seen leaves turn colors, eaten a s’more, or - and this Steve is realizing just now, seeing his wary expression - met a friendly dog. Steve didn’t think to warn him about Lucky, assuming that since he knew and loved _cats,_ he’d be familiar with dogs as well - but of course, the only dogs he encountered were either the aggressive guard dogs trained by Hydra, or mistrustful strays in the streets after the Helicarriers. 

Lucky is neither aggressive, nor mistrustful; he takes one look at Winter and activates the helicopter rotor mode on his tail, excited to be meeting a new friend. Clint shares one concerned look with Steve - worried about scaring Winter rather than Lucky’s safety, Steve knows, and his heart grows three sizes at that, at how the whole team just adopted Winter as one of their own just as much as they did Bucky, immediately and with no reservations - then slowly unclips the leash, keeping one hand in Lucky’s scruff to hold him back slightly. Lucky whines, disappointed, but stays put.

Steve can’t help but watch Winter carefully. The common room is a safe space that Winter knows well, and everyone around them is a friend, but what was supposed to be just Steve taking Winter upstate (“to show him _real_ fall, come on, Capsicle, I know you know we can do better, is that any way to treat your best guy,” in Tony’s words) turned into a Team Day Off, with Winter grabbing Natasha who grabbed Clint who grabbed Lucky, and then Tony decided to tag along and bring Bruce and Peter to show them some project or other he had stashed in the Compound he’s building up there. Suddenly it was “taking the jet there makes more sense than driving, really” and “would you please make sure the guest rooms are ready just in case we want to stay overnight, J, oh, and make sure there’s hot chocolate” and then the discussion of just how much gear needed to be taken (“No, Nat, I’m not taking the shield, this is _a day trip,_ not a mission!” - “Well _fine,_ but don’t come to me asking for a Bite if it turns out you were wrong!”) and Steve should’ve expected this to get out of hand but somehow he _didn’t,_ and now Winter is in the middle of all this madness. Steve can see him enter mission-ready mode, assessing the situation efficiently, registering all the different stimuli around him and processing them in rapid tempo, and. No, this wasn’t what Steve had in mind for today, not at all.

Winter edges closer to Steve, like he can’t silence the **protect** Steve knows blares in his head in face of anything unknown. The instinct seems to have extended to Steve, too, sometime in these past four months - and isn’t that a total 180 from that disastrous first afternoon, when Winter asserted the need to protect Bucky _from_ Steve. Steve can’t help but smile at this change, can’t help but be touched by it, even as he registers Winter’s… well, unease isn’t the right word. There’s no space for unease in him now, Steve knows because Bucky told him some about what it feels like to share a mind with two other people - one, now that the Soldier is gone. Steve knows about the blank that comes before the mission, the way facts supersede emotions to the point where everything is merely logic and strategy.

(He knows about the fallout of this, too, the price they have to pay later, of all those emotions crashing into them all at once. It might be a useful skill, but he’d do anything to protect them from the breakdown he knows comes next.)

Winter’s reacting to a perceived threat and putting himself between it and Steve, in something that has to be a mixture of a duty to protect a handler and a need to protect a friend. This is the farthest it could possibly be from Steve’s plan of a low-key, relaxing afternoon in the sun, riding the bike, drawing leaves and maybe stopping for pancakes at a diner if they felt particularly adventurous. He has no idea how to turn the situation back around - doesn’t even know if it’s possible. Last time he saw Winter like this was just after he exterminated a Hydra team that attacked him back in June, but having Winter take a bubble bath to unwind doesn’t seem to be the best idea, now. Steve’s stuck in the loop of _what do I do, what do I_ ** _do_** _now,_ when Lucky acts.

He whines again and twists out of Clint’s grip enough to push his nose into Winter’s metal hand and lick it enthusiastically.

The plates whir ominously.

Everybody stills, not knowing what to do. Sure, most of the time Winter is about as aggressive as a sleepy kitten, but when **protect** comes into play - and they all clearly see that it does, here, with how Winter’s angled himself to cover Steve as much as possible, the weaponized arm facing out - well, they don’t know what could happen. Last people to have seen this side of Winter are 6 feet under and conveniently marked as closed missing person cases.

Lucky whines again, then gives Winter his best doggy smile.

Winter blinks owlishly at the now-wet metal hand. Looks quizzically over his shoulder at Nat, who nods at him encouragingly.

Winter carefully crouches down and offers his flesh hand for Lucky to sniff, then - when Lucky decides that _yes, this human smells great_ and pushes his head firmly under his fingers - very carefully pets Lucky’s ears, like they’re made of glass and he’s afraid to break them.

“Hi, Lucky, Natalia told me about you,” he murmurs. Clint throws Nat a wild look, but releases his hold on Lucky - who promptly plops his head onto Winter’s knee and slobbers all over it happily.

Winter giggles.

Steve. Swoons. Just a little bit. In a very platonic way.

He chooses not to pay attention to Natasha’s growing smirk as he listens to Winter coo at Lucky and decides that, okay, maybe this won’t be a bad day after all.


	3. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He trusts Steve. He _loves_ Steve. But Steve won’t ever be in his head, and his head is a terrifying place to be alone in.  
> And then there’s the way Winter just… throws himself into everything with complete abandon and child-like wonder. Future is a wonderful thing all on its own, but seeing it through Winter’s eyes? It’s magical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long-awaited leaf piles 😁  
> I still got some tentative idea for Halloween shenanigans, maybe? But for now I'm marking it as complete. We'll see what happens next, there's definitely _four seasons: winter_ bunnies percolating in my head, since, it's... you know, December.  
> Not to mention, things actually need to get picked up where they left off after the boys' surgery. So many ideas, so little time 👀
> 
> The author has no experience with Dissociative Identity Disorder whatsoever (way too much with other fun mental stuff though).  
> Shared headspace: **bold** for Winter, _italics_ for Bucky.

_Sometimes things_ have to _get worse before they get better._

Bucky thought he knew what they were in for, all those months ago, when they were trying to decide whether to stay or just cut their losses and disappear. When the biggest problem seemed to be Steve not understanding Winter, or Hydra trying to re-acquire them.

When the crisis was averted - when Steve got his head out of his ass, when they came under JARVIS’s protection, when they could finally stop worrying about where they’d sleep that night or when their next meal would be - Bucky thought they were in the clear. The worst was over, right? They were _safe._ They were _home._ They had all the help they could dream of, and then some.

That’s when things fell apart.

Their therapist warned them, back at the very beginning, when they were riding the high of _the future! With Steve! No missions! Natalia’s here! So many warm, soft things!_ \- he warned them it’s going to come crashing down on them. That now that they’re finally safe enough to actually process what’s happened to them, all 70 years of it is going to hit them like a runaway train.

Neither Bucky nor Winter understood what this _therapy_ thing was supposed to be. They’re just sitting in a room for an hour a day, talking? That’s nothing, _nothing_ compared to what they’ve been through. It’s going to be a piece of cake. What does this guy know, anyway? They’re _safe._ They’re _home._ Things are _wonderful._

That’s when the dreams started. Falling asleep with Steve by his side is so easy, but sleep brings nightmares - blending their memories with their worst fears, waking them up multiple times every night. Or, worse, not willing to let them go, playing themselves over and over in increasingly revolting variations until dawn.

Perfectly normal stuff suddenly became terrifying. Small spaces. Crowds. Raised voices. Sudden movements. Constant hypervigilance, even though they _know_ they’re safe. 

They _know._ Somehow, that doesn’t stop the fear.

Steve keeps telling Bucky he’s not weak for feeling like this. That it’s okay to fall to pieces, because there’s people who will help them put themselves back together again. That he’s a survivor, that he’s _strong,_ that he can _do_ this.

He’ll never, not in a million years, tell Steve that sometimes he thinks being with Hydra was easier than the way his head keeps trying to pull itself apart now. At least then, the biggest danger was _outside._ Yeah, there was pain and torture and blood, but he could retreat to his deep, dark corner and wait it out. Now, not even that corner is safe. The fear is always here, lurking, waiting to strike.

Natalia’s the one holding him together through those moments… promising it’ll get better, that the only way to go from here is up. She’s done it before, so Bucky chooses to believe her. It’s either that, or go mad. Well, _more_ mad - he’s not sure he can be called sane if his mind houses two people.

Winter’s… so much better at this than him. Bucky knows with absolute certainty that without Winter he wouldn’t even _be_ here. Winter’s the one who made sure they survived what Hydra’s done to them - what _the Soldier’s_ done. Winter’s the one who saved Steve when the Soldier almost killed him, when Bucky couldn’t do anything but stare at their fist breaking Steve’s face in absolute horror. Winter’s the one who takes over _now,_ when the smallest things suddenly become too much, when Bucky can’t deal with reality anymore. Winter’s the one who makes sure they’re an actual functioning human - for all that he’s less than a year old, for all that he still needs Bucky’s guidance and clarification on most things.

When Natalia told him there’ll come a time when he sees a silver lining in what happened to him, he surprised her by saying _he already did._ Without Hydra, there’d be no Winter. It doesn’t make it _worth_ all that agony, not exactly - but it’s a hell of a thing, having someone who understands without words, who you can trust implicitly.

He trusts Steve. He _loves_ Steve. But Steve won’t ever be in his head, and his head is a terrifying place to be alone in.

And then there’s the way Winter just… throws himself into everything with complete abandon and child-like wonder. Future is a wonderful thing all on its own, but seeing it through Winter’s eyes? It’s magical.

After initial alarm, Winter is absolutely _smitten_ with Lucky.

 _You sure you don’t want a dog instead of cats?_ Bucky teases as they wait for Lucky to find the frisbee they sent flying for him. They might’ve thrown it slightly too hard, judging by how long it’s taking.

He can sense Winter deliberating. **No, I’m sure, he’s… a lot. It’d be tiring to have him around all the time, I think?** There’s an image accompanying the words, of Winter curled up in his armchair, listening to a podcast with a cat curled on the backrest.

 _Cats are quiet,_ Bucky finishes the thought for him. _Well, quiet_ _er_ _,_ he adds, thinking of the huge ginger tomcat who used to yowl at Winter for pets.

Winter hums thoughtfully as they watch Lucky come back to them, looking very confused. **This is fun too, though.**

 _Yeah, I bet,_ Bucky snorts, since Steve’s doing his meerkat thing in reaction to Winter tilting his head first at him, then at the treeline, wordlessly asking for company.

The search somehow turns into a leisurely walk, with Lucky running around them in excited circles and diving into and out of leaf piles - quickly joined by Steve, who takes the task of locating the frisbee _very seriously._ Winter refuses to get involved, opting to climb a low branch instead and perch there, observing the resulting tussle with a serene smile. Their head is quiet, and it’s somehow similar and yet completely different from the zone they used to enter when sniping. The fear recedes as the buzzing that’s been shaking them apart for days finally settles.

When they come back to join the others, their hands are full of colorful leaves, pockets heavy with shiny chestnuts that Steve started bringing Winter when he noticed how fascinated Winter was by their texture. Lucky trots his way back to Clint with his tongue lolling out, exhausted by trying to keep up with an excited super-soldier. It’s getting late, shadows growing longer, the setting sun painting everything the kind of gold Peter always raves about. 

Sure enough, the boy’s out and about, camera at the ready, making the most of the last minutes of fading light and taking pictures that Bucky’s sure are going to end up somewhere on the team’s social media accounts. It’s a joint project of Pepper, Natalia and Peter, an effort to humanize a group that could otherwise be seen as dangerous, superpowered as they are and operating without any formal oversight. It’s hard to fear Bruce, though, when he’s preparing ingredients for s’mores and laughing at Tony’s griping about using something as primitive as matches to light the bonfire; and it’s hard to mistrust Natalia when she’s curled under Clint’s arm, hair redder than the flames and eyes closed in what seems to be sleep.

There’s a thermos of - Winter takes a sniff and wrinkles his nose - mulled wine going around, and Clint points them in the direction of a pile of blankets waiting on one of the logs, already warmed by the fire. Steve meerkats his way over there immediately and picks the biggest one, bringing it to Winter like an offering and getting a beatific smile in return.

Bucky knows the peace isn’t going to last. The nightmares _will_ come, bringing with them the buzzing and the fear. But for now, the exhaustion they’re feeling is born of nothing more nefarious than spending all day outside, and people around them understand that Winter doesn’t want to be _drawn into_ the conversation, but enjoys having it wash around him nonetheless. 

Bucky catalogs the sensations carefully. The fire is deliciously warm. The fleece blanket makes a perfect cocoon. The chestnuts Winter’s playing with are silky smooth. There’s a barely-there pressure of Steve’s shoulder where it’s leaning against theirs. Bucky can feel the small smile playing on their lips as Winter listens to Peter chatter at Tony about what kind of camera lens he’d need to take photos by the firelight.

Winter’s got this. Things are quiet. They’re _safe._

Bucky closes his eyes, curls himself in a tight ball in his favorite corner and, for once, sleeps without dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky and Steve in this chapter be like:

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! 🙃  
>   
>   
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [fall: interlude](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181610) by [Lacerta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta/pseuds/Lacerta)




End file.
